


You Keep Me Alive

by sunsetmagnolia



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: I want to be artsy and poetic here, M/M, Running Away, actually... guess which pairing you think this is about in the comments, everything is vague for a reason okay, mild angst with a hopeful ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28168596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmagnolia/pseuds/sunsetmagnolia
Summary: His end of the string winds itself tight around his heart – a warning: you’re about to lose this. This peace, this sanity, this night, it’s all about to disappear.Title (and fic) based on The Edge Of Tonight by All Time Low.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	You Keep Me Alive

Drive. Drive. He’s been driving for hours – days? – and still he drives. The road reveals itself in front of him like a map unfurling, wrinkled and tattered at the edges much like reality as he passes it by. It’s been dark for as long as he remembers. The street lights are almost nonexistent, that’s how far into nowhere he’s run, locked the doors and left without a plan. He’s never had a plan, he’s only had this moment, and the next, and the one after. Every now and then a pair of headlights pass in the opposite direction, or maybe another car stays within reach for a few miles before they leave, or they leave him behind. No one drives this long without a destination, so then, maybe he is no one. Maybe he’s so inconsequential to the world that everything will continue exactly as it has before.

_He sits bolt upright in bed, like he felt a string being pulled taut, so tight it could snap. It’s elastic, it has give, but it wasn’t meant to be pulled this fast. Something is wrong. He looks to the window, where he can faintly see the flashing lights and hear the siren as it goes by somewhere just out of range. Surely that’s a coincidence, or at best, it’s the reason he’s awake in the first place. No, this is a different feeling. He reaches for his phone and of course it’s too late for any person to be awake, which can only mean one thing. His end of the string winds itself tight around his heart – a warning: you’re about to lose this. This peace, this sanity, this night, it’s all about to disappear._

_Are you okay?_ The message pops up, apropos of nothing. On he drives, the small light but a slight distraction. He keeps his eyes on the road, or he’ll lose it. First the road will go, then the buzzing across his temples like his brain is trying to escape. There’s a knot in the center of his chest that gets tighter with every passing minute. Distance is not the answer here, it’s time, but distance is easier to put behind him, so he drives.

Home isn’t a real thing. _The words ring in his ears like he heard them just yesterday, even though they’re from years ago. From plane rides and long drives and stolen moments on bikes across neighborhoods, home has never been a place. A place is made to escape from, a home is made to be found. A light in the dark. A parallel heartbeat in the middle of the night. They’ve both been following that light for years, but the more they pursued it, the more evasive it became. One better was never good enough. The relentless chase had ended – maybe – here, side by side, until that had ended too._

 _Where are you?_ The second message pops up and goes ignored, and by now the buzzing in his head has spread across him like a second skin, like he’s being kept alive and shaken apart by the same force. It would be the longest drive back if he turned around right then, he thinks, and then ignores that as well. If he’s not meant to run, then maybe he shouldn’t feel like he’s being chased. He shouldn’t feel like everything he’s worked for is tumbling down behind him and the second he looks back is the second it all crashes around him. There’s nothing to go back to, and there’s nothing in front of him, but there is a road, so he follows it as far as it will dare to go.

It feels like we’re right on the edge of something big. _It was a shared sentiment at the time, but lately it feels like they’d been on different pages, or maybe reading different books entirely. He considers going back to sleep, but he’s awake for a reason, and if the tugging at his heart is anything to go by, he knows exactly what that reason is._

 _Can you call me back?_ After ten minutes of letting the phone ring, he glances down to see what anyone would have to say to him so desperately in the middle of the night. He almost stops the car until he realizes he’s on the freeway and in the middle of a desert and there are no people around for miles and so maybe there’s no reason for him not to stop the car after all. He picks up his phone and stares at the messages in a stack of letters until they stop making sense. The knot in his chest gets tighter. He gives himself a moment to relax and shake his hands out, which have all but molded to the shape of the wheel under his palms. This is only a call, it’s not a call back, it’s not a call to return. If it was anyone else he could say they can probably assume he’s asleep, but it’s not anyone else. It’s the only person on this side of the planet who would know without a word or even a look between them that he should be asked if he’s okay. The phone screen goes dark from not being used and he feels the weight of it in his hand. The cool air blowing from the vents suddenly feels dry and suffocating and too familiar for his liking. He turns it off, wishing he’d had the foresight to bring a jacket, or to at least turn off the cold air when it started getting cold outside around him. Now that everything is still, he inexplicably feels his chest loosen. The quiet has never agreed with him, but in it he can hear a train going by somewhere, the distant clicking of wheels across the tracks playing a beat in his heart that feels more like home than any amount of recycled air ever will.

Hey. _He hears the lonely word like a song as he’s pulling on his shoes. “Where are you? What are you doing there? Do you—” want me to come get you? The words get lost on their way out of his mouth, but it’s not like he has to say them for them to be heard. No, they’re past the point of asking. In exchange for his concerns, he gets a location sent to his phone and a sorrowfully sweet voice across the line saying yes, he’ll stay, he’s okay, he’s okay. He’s okay. He has to remind himself to exhale now and remind himself that nothing is gone yet. Nothing is so far out of reach that he has to worry more than he already has. He feels like he’s standing at the edge of a cliff – one slight breeze and he’ll go tumbling headfirst down into the Pacific Ocean like a stone lost to time._

 _Wait for me?_ He finds himself incapable of saying no, not for lack of choice, but rather conviction. He’s never been graceful being caught in a lie, and anything other than yes I’d wait for you as long as you asked would be so far from the truth. He listens for the last of the faraway train whistles as it disappears past his realm of existence. The air is off, the lights are off, the car might as well be off too. The seat beneath him is the most uncomfortable he’s felt in a while, but he can’t make himself move, so he looks out the window into the grey-black darkness, seeing nothing past the pavement right outside the door. The moon hangs like the barest sliver in the sky, looking cautiously out from behind the clouds for mere moments at a time before going back into hiding. Another train whistles, and this time he listens for the approach, trying to convince himself if he listens hard enough, he can count the train cars as they pass him by into the ether beyond.

Promise. _They passed the word back and forth, usually pretending they didn’t know the gravity of it, and equally aware that they were both the type to absolutely take it seriously. He was not prepared to drive three hours in the middle of the night, and was well aware that the sun will be sitting comfortably in the sky by the time they get home. He’s even more aware that they won’t be able to drive both cars home together if he plans on never leaving his side again. He’s more aware still that his idea of home might not be home to them both anymore, and there’s every chance that this rescue mission will end the way it began, only miles closer together and worlds farther apart._

 _Together._ He pushes the word around in his mind. The cars are starting to get closer together as they pass, only minutes between them instead of half hours. The far horizon is still dark, but the clouds are starting to part, letting him catch glimpses of the stars above him. He rolls down his window enough to get fresh air, but not enough to freeze, and then waits. Cars drive past, trains go by, and every now and then he sees a plane flashing red and white lights in the sky above the clouds. He remembers why he was running. It hasn’t gotten better. It hasn’t gone away. But the buzz has dulled to a vibration in his fingertips that almost feels like magic. There isn’t much he can do on his own, but he considers the possibility that he was never meant to. There has always been someone there to keep him safe, as far as he runs, as deep as he falls, a hand to catch him in the darkest night and put him on a path where, even if he can’t see the next week or the next day, he can always see the next step.

_He drives and drives, too wound up to play music even if he knows it would help calm his racing thoughts. He’s hours into the desert and imagines this is where someone would disappear to if their goal was indeed to disappear. The night is still dark around him, but he can feel it like an itch that daybreak is just around the corner. He sees the end of the red line on his map that says the location is close. His eyes are glued to the horizon until he sees it: a car parked on the side of the road, reflectors catching his headlights as he approaches. The string that pulled him this far has snapped back to its original length, no longer tight and constricting, but still it pulls._

He hears the car behind him before he sees it. Sitting in silence so long has taught him that darkness is never really silent. He looks over his shoulder at the car behind him and almost breaks down at the sight. It’s not like they’ve been apart forever, or even for long, but they’ve been so _far_ apart that he doesn’t know what to do now that his chest is full and he can breathe again. He opens his car door and slams it shut behind him as the sunlight starts to seep over the horizon, turning the edge of the sky from black to blue, a reminder that the earth still works miracles. His feet don’t know how to slow down so as soon as he’s standing, he’s running, and then they’re connected, arms and hands around each other, grasping tightly to everything they haven’t had in miles and miles. They drive back together, through the same distance that kept them apart, into the future with the tires under them keeping time until blue turns to orange turns to gold, and the night gives way to the brand new day.

**Author's Note:**

> This was sent to me as a song prompt from [Maggie](https://calumsclifford.tumblr.com/) on tumblr ages ago when we were being emo about atl and I finally caught the vibe.


End file.
